THE NORTH WIND.
Reading edition
I.
Wind of the North, I know your song Out on the frozen plain, But here in the city's streets you seem Only a cry of pain.
II.
I know the note of your lusty throat Where the black boughs toss and roar, But here it is part of the old, old cry Of the hungry, homeless poor.
III.
I know the song that you sing to God, Joyous and high and wild, But here where His creatures herd and die, 'Tis the sob of a little child.